TWENTY-SIX
A fter giving Taylor and her companion a healthy head start, we quietly make our way over to the slip where Lance and Taylor’s father keeps his boat. The boats on this part of the club are older than the ones we were hiding behind. Some are in bad shape ... but most are well maintained. Following Jack, we turn at the end of a dock to an even more secluded area. This would be a great place to hide. Jack motions us to squeeze in beside a wooden sailboat covered with clear wrap, and quietly points to the boat next to it, mouthing, “It’s that one.”
I nod.
Unlike the other boats, Andrew Murray’s sailboat isn’t covered with shrink wrap. It’s not huge, at least compared to some of the others we’ve seen, but it’s big enough for someone to live on. I can see an open window to the cabin below deck. Very quietly, Jack moves closer to the boat and crouches near the window. I follow him. Gracie wordlessly stays where she is, closer to the main docks, keeping watch. Voices bleed from the window. It’s Taylor and, I assume, her mystery man. I turn on the voice recorder, but I’m not sure I’ll get a clear recording from outside.
“Why is he still sleeping?” Taylor asks, annoyed. “Fuck. He’s driving me up the wall. How much longer do I have to coddle him?”
“Another few weeks, tops,” a man’s voice says, I assume the boyfriend.
“I can’t even stand the sight of him,” Taylor says. “Lance should have thrown him overboard ...” Her spoiled voice is so distinctive. Even if I didn’t see her, I’d know it was her.
“Shhh. We’re so close, Taylor. This is bigger than you and Lance.”
“You all owe me. I can’t even believe I’m related to that .”
Does this mean she does have Jay on the boat? I start to get up, intending to burst in and get to him, but Jack holds me back, pressing his finger to his lips to quiet me.
“Sounds like he’s awake,” the man says.
I open a text with Gracie on my phone.
Aleeza: It sounds like Jay might be on the boat. I’m going in.
Gracie: Shit. Don’t ... I’ll call the police. Wait for them.
I don’t want to wait. I want to get Jay out of there before another moment passes. And I want to throw Taylor overboard into the cold water. She clearly lured Jay here somehow and betrayed him.
“What the fuck are you two doing here ...?” a loud male voice behind me says. Shit. I turn. It’s Lance. He’s alone.
“Hey, Lance,” Jack says, scrambling to get up. “Was showing Aleeza around the club, and we thought we saw your sister come onto this boat.”
Lance looks confused and angry. And at that, the door to the cabin of the boat bursts open, and Taylor’s boyfriend, the well-dressed man I saw earlier, comes out.
“What’s going on here?” the boyfriend asks, climbing off the boat and onto the narrow dock between the two slips. Taylor emerges from the cabin behind him.
“They were listening at the window,” Lance says.
Taylor’s eyes widen. “What the hell?” She looks right at me. “Why is it always you ? Mind your own fucking business!” She steps toward us, clearly furious.
Jack steps in front of me, but Taylor keeps talking. “First your damn web series, then you move into his room! And now, sneaking around—”
“Taylor ...,” the boyfriend says, voice full of warning.
“Who were you talking about in the cabin?” I ask. “Who’s sleeping on the boat?”
She glances at her boyfriend. “No one.”
“Do you have Jay hidden on there?” Jack asks.
At that, a noise bangs below deck. Loud footsteps follow, and a door opens.
My heart picks up speed when I hear the thumping of the person’s feet on the deck. Then I see him.
It’s not Jay.
It’s an older man. Blond hair, backward cap, and bloodshot blue eyes. And a very familiar face. If Lance weren’t standing next to me, I would think it was him. This must be his father, Andrew Murray.
He points at me. “Who the fuck are you?” he growls, passing Taylor and her boyfriend to stand directly in front of me and Jack.
“Dad,” Taylor says. “She’s nobody. Just a friend from school.”
“Bullshit she’s nobody.” Andrew looks at Lance, who’s behind me on the narrow dock. “She’s one of them, isn’t she? Salma’s family. They’ll fucking haunt me until I die.”
“Dad, she’s not. She’s nobody ,” Taylor says again. “You’re drunk—go back to bed.” Her boyfriend looks at her nervously.
Does this guy—Andrew Murray—think I’m related to Salma Hoque because we’re both Brown?
Jack glances at Andrew and snorts. He’s turned back into the Jack I first met—that bored, world-weary expression on his face. “You look like shit, Andy. You’ve been living on this boat? Oh, how the mighty have fallen. My father always said you’d never live up to the family you married into. Not surprised they took out the trash, honestly.”
“You little shit,” Andrew says to Jack. “This is your fault. I told Lance to never trust a Gormley. You’re as useless as your father.”
“Don’t you dare talk about my father like that, you snake,” Jack hisses. “You can only dream to be half the man he is. But you’re dirt. Idiotic, trashy dirt.”
Andrew lunges at us. I jump out of the way, and Jack tries to duck, but Andrew lands a punch right to the side of Jack’s face. Andrew isn’t a small man, and he punches like he’s done it many times. Jack crumples to the ground, hitting his head on the old wood boat on the way down. Taylor’s boyfriend pulls Andrew off Jack as I rush to Jack’s side.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Jack says, holding on to his face. He doesn’t look okay. He’s kneeling on the dock and his eyes are watering. Blood drips from his lip.
Andrew’s still being held back by Taylor’s boyfriend. “Take a picture of that , Taylor,” Andrew spits out. “Tell that bitch that’s what her precious boy looked like right before he went over.”
“Dad ... shut up ,” Lance warns.
Who is Andrew talking about? Was he there when Jay went overboard? Or is that bitch Helen Grant, and he’s talking about the look on Stephen’s face when he went overboard in the Caribbean?
“You killed Stephen Everett, didn’t you?” I ask.
Andrew lunges at me, but Taylor’s boyfriend holds him back.
Taylor narrows her eyes at me. “I hope you know the mess you’ve made. I still don’t get why you’re so obsessed with Jay.”
I shake my head. That’s exactly what Mia said. “No, you’re obsessed with Jay,” I say. “He was just living his life, happy with his mom, until you all came into it. All because you wanted something that was supposed to be his. I know he was here that night. What did you do to him?”
“He wasn’t here,” Lance says. “You have no proof.”
“Bro, I know he was here,” Jack says, holding on to his face. “I saw him.”
“No one would believe a burnout like you, Jack,” Lance says.
“ Nothing was supposed to be his,” Andrew says. I don’t think he’s even listening to his son. “He wasn’t supposed to be here! You aren’t supposed to be here either.” He looks at Jack. “As much as you’re a troublemaking punk, you belong in this fucking place. But Salma didn’t belong here, and neither did her bastard kid. Stephen shouldn’t have polluted the waters. Knocking up some foreigner ... a fucking waitress ... an immigrant ...” He says immigrant like it’s a slur. “He shouldn’t have severed a family legacy! All of it should belong to my son. It should all be Lance’s!”
“Racist piece of shit,” Jack says, which makes Andrew lunge again, but Taylor’s boyfriend has him. The guy is strong.
“Way to forget I exist again, Dad,” Taylor deadpans.
“Yeah, what about Taylor?” I ask. “Especially since she’s the one who brought Jay here to the marina for you. Are you sexist as well as racist? And too cowardly to do your own dirty work, so you have your kids do it for you?”
Lance’s eyes go wide and shoot to Taylor. Of course, he doesn’t know that Jay told me that Wednesday was taking him. I almost think Lance is going to admit something, but instead he snarls at me.
“Jay belonged in this world a hell of a lot more than any of you,” I spit out. Clearly Jay is not here, and he’s not alive. One of the three of them threw Jay off Jack’s boat—I just need to get them to admit it while my necklace records them. A thought occurs to me. “Hey, Jack?” I ask. “Do you think maybe Lance and his father were on your boat that night with Jay? With that douchey hat on, they look mighty similar. Maybe we should turn them both over to the police.”
Jack is still crouched on the dock, holding his eye. He nods, then wipes a trickle of blood dripping from his nose. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,” Jack says. “Andy, you drugged me that night, didn’t you? With your favorite drug, GHB. Then you told Lance to toss Jay overboard. Just like you did to Stephen years ago. All of you are a complete waste of space. I’ll see that you are removed from the club forever—so better find some trailer park where you can fit in.”
No one says anything at that. I take their silence to mean Jack is right. Andrew was here, and one of them pushed Jay off the boat, but I still need one of them to say it.
I roll my eyes at Lance. “And of course you needed Taylor’s help to get Jay here. Mia told me you were the most useless boyfriend she’d ever had and you could never rise to the occasion .”
All hell breaks loose. Lance screams that I don’t fucking know what I’m talking about, and Andrew lunges at Jack again. Lance comes at me, and I come very close to falling in the water trying to get away from him before Taylor grabs Lance. Taylor’s boyfriend is the only thing keeping Andrew from hitting Jack again.
Lance eventually gives up on me and screams at Jack, “I should have thrown you both off your boat that night!”
Bingo. And I had that on the voice recorder.
The dock shakes with new footsteps. I turn to see two police officers. Even more chaos erupts. Lance is still screaming at Jack, Taylor is screaming at her boyfriend, and the boyfriend is still holding Andrew back. Other club members have come out to see what’s going on. And the cops are trying to shut it all down.
I don’t hear any of it, though. All I can think is that Andrew killed Stephen. And Lance killed Jay. Like fathers, like sons. Lance threw Jay into the water on that cold November night, just like his father did to Jay’s father five years ago. Jay isn’t alive. His father isn’t alive. My breath catches in my throat. We didn’t save anyone.
“Everyone stop shouting!” the woman officer says. Then she notices Taylor’s boyfriend holding Andrew’s hands behind him. “Cameron. What are you doing here?”
Taylor’s boyfriend sighs. “Failing miserably at a sting operation, apparently. This is Andrew Murray. Cuff him. I saw him assault that boy, Jack Gormley. I’ve been investigating Andrew for a fraud and money-laundering ring for months, and I was this close to getting him to give me the names of his associates. Doubt he’ll talk now.”
Wait, what? Taylor’s boyfriend is with the police ?
Andrew looks back and forth between the two cops, his kids, me, and Jack, and realizes there’s nowhere to run. He snarls at Taylor.
“Your boyfriend’s a fucking cop ? My own daughter ...”
Taylor looks at her father with disgust, then anger. “You don’t care about your children,” she says angrily. “You only want our fucking money. Or Mom’s money.”
I blink repeatedly. Is this really happening? Why is everyone caring about money more than murder? I point to Andrew Murray. “He practically admitted to killing Stephen Everett. And Lance admitted he killed Jay Hoque. He threw him off Jack’s boat. Taylor lured Jay here. I have it all on audio,” I say, pointing to my necklace. “You should arrest Lance and Taylor too.”
Cameron, the undercover cop/boyfriend, shrugs. “Yep, may as well take Lance in too. We’ll sort it out at the station.”
Lance gives Cameron an angry look before chaos erupts again. Andrew starts shouting at Lance. Lance and Taylor shout at their father. Gracie appears next to me and wipes the blood from Jack’s nose with a napkin. Eventually the cops lead Andrew Murray and his son out of the yacht club. I have no idea why Taylor isn’t taken too—maybe because she’s dating the cop? I remember Mia telling me Taylor has a cop fetish. It figures. I want to throw up.
The police make the rest of us stick around to answer questions. I tell them we were investigating Jay’s disappearance for a school project, and that when we came here to talk to Jack about Jay, we noticed Taylor acting strange, so we followed her.
Cameron shakes his head. “Amateur sleuths. It’s always amateur sleuths. You should have left this to the police.”
Gracie shakes her head. “Considering now you have two possible murder suspects in custody, you should be grateful.”
Cameron puts his hands in the air. “Who cares about Stephen’s murder! That’s not even in this jurisdiction! It happened in Grand Cayman! But now we’ll never find out who Andrew is working with.” He rubs his face. “He’s probably already called his lawyer. Months of work, down the drain.”
“So money is more important than people?” Gracie asks.
“Yeah,” I say. I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Why does no one care about Jay’s murder? “Does no one care about getting justice for Jay?”
Cameron looks at me a moment, then snorts. “Jay doesn’t need justice anymore. And believe me, Andrew’s going to pay for all his crimes. But we’re not going to get more than him now.”
I frown. “What does that mean, Jay doesn’t need justice?”
“It means nothing,” Taylor says. “Are we free to go? I want to be there when you tell my mom and grandma what happened here.”
The cops ask some more questions, take down everyone’s contact information, and let us go. As we walk out of the yacht club, I stop Taylor.
“What’s your role in this?” I ask her. “Were you here that night when Jay went overboard?” I still don’t know why Jay left me that message that Taylor had him. Or maybe he didn’t. I could have misinterpreted his note.
Taylor puts her hands on her hips and gives me such a mean-girlish look that I wonder if this is all some candid-camera prank. “ You are the biggest mystery in all this, Azalea.”
“It’s Aleeza .”
“Whatever,” she says, waving a hand. “Showing up at the weirdest times. Asking the most inconvenient questions. I’ve never trusted you. You and your Nancy Drew Crew should mind your own business.”
“Why? Because we’re not rich like the rest of you?”
“I’m rich enough to make up for it,” Jack says, putting his hand on my arm.
Taylor shakes her head. “No.” She looks at Gracie a moment, then back to me. “Look, right now I need to focus on my family. Mom and Grandma are going to flip out. Word of advice, though—don’t publish that podcast of yours yet. This story isn’t done.”
She doesn’t say anything else and leaves with Cameron.
I spend the rest of the day with Jack and Gracie in the hospital emergency room holding an ice pack on Jack’s red and swollen nose. His left eye is darkening, and although he’s clearly in pain, he turns down painkillers.
“My dad’s going to murder me,” he says. “He’s going to have to smooth a lot of ruffled feathers at the club.”
“Seriously?” Gracie asks. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Lance and his dad literally killed people .”
He snorts, then winces in pain. “It’s an old boys’ club. I broke onto another member’s boat. Brought someone in who called the police on a member. We protect our own. We don’t air our own’s dirty laundry.”
“And you brought in some Asians who disrupted their peace,” Gracie says.
He nods. Then winces again. “Whatever happens, happens.”
“Would your father stop supporting you?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Nah. Believe it or not, my parents do love me. And people like us protect our own, remember? It’s the worst club to be in, but they’ll have my back.”
I’m not so sure. Look what happened to Stephen and Jay.
I take Jack’s arm. “You can be in our club instead. The Nancy Drew Crew.” I frown. “I’m not sold on Taylor’s name for us.”
He smiles and rests his head on my shoulder. “Careful, let me in and you’ll never get rid of me.”
I don’t want to. After losing Jay, I want to keep the friends I have close.